


A Night of The Seven Kingdoms

by Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya



Series: Season 8 [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya/pseuds/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya





	A Night of The Seven Kingdoms

     Later that evening, Arya watched the Dragon Queen holding council in Winterfell’s Great Hall. She sat where her Father used to sit. She thought of all the people who would have sat upon the chair in the years since her Fathers death and her skin crawled. At least now the Starks were back in Winterfell. The Starks were sat along the top table, the Lords Table, Daenerys was flanked by Sansa and Jon. Bran sat beside Sansa, Arya lurked in the shadows away from everyone else. Bran seemed tranquil in his chair, but Arya could feel the blood boiling in her veins as she watched the King Slayer appear before them.

  
She didn’t listen as the Dragon Queen, the Imp and King Slayer argued about whatever they were talking about. She heard the name Cersei and her mind flashed to her list. “Ser Gregor. Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Illyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei.” That was probably one of the earliest incantations of what had once been her nightly prayer. Valar Morghilis she reminded herself.

  
She was startled back to reality when her sister began to talk.

  
“You’re right, we can’t trust him.” Sansa said matter of factly, agreeing with the Dragon Queen. “He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my House and my family, the same he did yours.”

  
Arya watched her sister, she wondered where she was going with this. Despite their common hate for the Lannisters, it was odd to see Sansa agreeing with the Dragon Queen at all. Arya had thought her sister was completely suspicious toward the Queen. Arya, however, Arya was curious.

  
“Do you want me to apologise?” The Kingslayer asked, “I won’t. We were at war!”

  
Sansa cocked her head in reply.

  
“Everything I did, I did for my House and my family. I’d do it all again.”

  
But it wasn’t Sansa or even Daenerys who spoke next.

  
“The things we do for love.” Bran replied staring straight through the man.

  
Everyone paused and looked at Bran. Arya could see everyones mind ticking over she knew they were thinking what would a cripple know about love. But Arya knew that Bran knew all.

  
Suddenly, a bench scrapped. Lady Brienne of Tarth was rising.

  
“My Lady,” Sansa’s sworn sword addressed her.

  
She continued with an impassioned argument to as why Ser Jamie should be trusted, and should be allowed to stay with them to fight the Dead. Arya didn’t really listen to what was being said. Instead she closely watched the reactions of both the Knight-like Lady and her sister. Lady Brienne was tall, the tallest woman Arya had ever seen, nearly as tall as the Hound even! Her hair was the colour of dry straw, shoulder length and slicked back. Her lips were swollen and her nose crooked, yet her eyes were big and blue, like the sea off Bravos. Brienne had sworn an oath to their mother Catelyn Stark years past, to protect her daughters at all costs. Brienne had been at Sansa’s side since she found her, she once found Arya years ago. Arya had been travelling with the Hound at the time, the two of them fought for custardy of Arya. And despite Brienne winning, Arya did not follow her. The knight-like Lady always fascinated Arya though. She was doing what she thought was right, it didn’t matter that she was a woman, or even a Lady. This really inspired Arya, she thought back to a conversation she’d had with her Father one afternoon back in Kings Landing.

  
_“Can I be Lord of a Holdfast?” She’d asked him._  
 _He’d chucked and kissed her forehead._  
 _“You will marry a High Lord and rule his castle, and your sons shall be knights and princes and lords.” he’d told her._  
 _“No. That’s not me.” She’d told him._

  
But now, many years on, she was face to face with a Lady who was all but a knight. Maybe Arya could be a knight.. Probably not! She was far too small, she was far better suited as an assassin.

  
Arya slipped out unnoticed as the conversation continued to as whether the Kingslayer should be allowed to join the ranks of the Living Army against the Army of the Dead. Her reflection on her long ago conversation with her father had stirred something in her.

     Night had claimed the sky as Arya made her way to the forge. The night was bitter and fresh snow was falling in light flakes. The court yard was quieter than it had been earlier in the day, but the forge was still a hive of activity as the smiths tried to ready as many weapons as possible for the coming battle. Arya slipped into the shadows and stood to watch Gendry at work. Earlier he had his shirt tied right up to his neck, and his sleeves down to his gloves. But now the shirt was pulled open, and the sleeves pushed up, Arya noted. Gendry had been muscular even when they were younger, but there was more to it now. Arya watched as he moved from station to station, his face was filthy, as was his visible chest. He walked around the forge with an air of confidence. And Arya liked it. He knew where he belonged.

  
Arya stepped slowly out of the shadows. She was wearing a dark grey tunic with brown trimming, high boots and her grey cloak. And of course her weapons were visible to everyone. She sauntered into the forge with her head held high, making a beeline for Gendry. The other smiths paused muttering M’lady as she sauntered passed.

  
As she approached he picked up a hammer and began banging on a molten material. Arya stood and watched briefly, watching the muscles ripple throughout his arms and shoulders as he hammered.

  
She let out a small involuntary sigh. He picked up whatever the molten material was and plunged it into a barrel of water. Gendry became obscured by all the steam that rose up around him, Arya grinned to herself. As the steam began to recede, she could see the sweat glistening on his bare chest and forehead, a look of pure intensity was on his face. She didn’t think he’d seen her yet - or was this a show? No, no, that’s ridiculous she told herself.

  
At that moment, he lifted his head up, steam still rising around him, but now he looked directly at her. They briefly locked eyes, Arya cocked her eyebrow.

  
“Don’t you have something better to do?” He asked her bluntly.

  
“You made my weapon yet?” She responded with as much bluntness.

  
He continued to move around working as they spoke.

  
“Just as soon as I’m done making a few thousand of these.” he declared picking up some an axe head.

  
She walked over to him and yanked it out of his hands. She began to walk away from him, turning the weapon in her hand.

  
“You should make mine first. And make sure it’s stronger than this.”

  
In response, he pulled the axe head out of her gloved hands, he swung the axe planting it into a nearby tree stump.

  
She glanced up at him in amazement, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. He was stood right next to her, staring down directly into her eyes.

  
“It’s strong enough.” He stated boldly before walking away from her.

  
The smile that had been threatening to form broke out as she watched him walking away, briefly she scanned his body with her eyes, from top to bottom. He was definitely a different man to the one who left her years ago. Then he'd just entered manhood, whilst she was still a girl, now he was a man grown and she was a woman.

  
Arya followed him over to a work bench, full of spear heads.

  
“It’s going to be safer down in the crypt, you know.” He said looking down at her, his voice full of concern.

  
Her eyes flickered to his face. He was serious.

  
She leaned up against a beam holding the ceiling up.

  
“Are you going to be down in the crypt?”

  
“No but-“

  
“But you’re a fighter.”

  
He looked from the work bench to her face.

  
“I’ve done my share.” he said softly.

  
“You fought them?”

  
“I did. Some of them.”

  
“How many?” She questioned confidently.

  
“A few. That was enough.” he retorted slowly.

  
She watched him as he continued to work.

  
“What are they like?” She asked him.

  
“Bad.” he said. “Really bad.” He added as he stopped working.

  
“‘Really bad’?” She teased back raising her eyebrows at him.

  
She pushed off the beam, and walked around him.

  
“Even a smith’s apprentice can do better than ‘really bad’.” she said matter of factly rolling her eyes. She knew he was more than a smiths apprentice, she was there when Beric made him a Knight at Hollow Hill, even if most people didn’t know about it.

  
He was facing her now, a work bench between them. He bent down so they were eye-to-eye. He looked at her in a really intense way, he was so close to her, she could raise her hand and touch him, but she could see the fear in his eyes, so she stayed her hand.

  
“What do they look like?” She questioned breathlessly, “What do they smell like? How do they move? How hard are they to kill?”

  
She wanted to be ready for this battle. She needed to know everything she could. She’d been blind once before, she had no intention of ever going into anything else blind ever again.

  
“Look, I know you want to fight.” He stated leaning in towards her. “And I know you’re not scared of rapers or murderers, or…” he trailed off. He sighed, he looked deeply worried looking into her eyes.

  
“This is different, this is… This is death.” He continued. “You want to know what they’re like? Death, that’s what they’re like.”

  
He sighed, and she glanced towards to table.

  
She took a second to compose her face, and reached for one of the blades laid on the table between them, he reached out as if to stop her. But she lifted her face to his, and he withdrew from his reach.

  
“I know Death.” She stated simply, lifting the blade to throw.

  
He suddenly realised she was about to throw the blade, when it sailed past his face, finding its way into a wooden beam across the forge. A man with long hair turned to look at her as the blade landed with a thud a foot away from his head.

  
Gendry gasped as the man turned away.

  
“He’s got many faces.” She continued, selecting a second blade to throw. This one landed right next to the first. The man stood by the beam began to move away now. And Gendry turned around to face her.

  
His face was a mixture of emotions. He looked scarred and proud and amazed.

  
“I look forward to seeing this one.” She said throwing the third blade.

  
Gendry chuckled as he turned in time to see the third blade nestling on the opposite side of the first one. Arya began to walk around the table to face Gendry where he stood.  
She paused briefly before him, she confidently looked up at his face. She could see crinkles around his eyes as he laughed, those crinkles reminded her of their time travelling together - but she couldn’t allow this to distract her right now.

  
“My weapon?” She asked bluntly.

  
“I’ll get right on it.” he nodded in disbelief.

  
She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away from the forge, this time she resisted turning back around.

     The following morning yet more men, women and children were flowing into Winterfell. Arya arrived into the shadows of the Great Hall as a contingent of Iron islanders arrived. Suddenly from one of the back doors, the Dragon Queen appeared, quickly followed by Sansa. Both of them paused in front of the men, both women knew their leader. A young man with auburn hair and a pale face stepped forward.

  
“My Queen.” He bowed to the Dragon Queen.

  
“Your sister?” She asked.

  
The two of them conversed for a while. Arya watched carefully. She had grown up with this man, he had been a brother to her. And he had betrayed her family. Then he rescued her sister. She still didn’t know how she should feel about him. Arya didn’t trust easily, and for now, Theon would be on the not trusted list.

  
“I want to fight for Winterfell, Lady Sansa..” he said with a soft smile to her sister, “..If you’ll have me.”

  
Sansa returned the smile, then charged forward enveloping the man in her arms, whilst the Dragon Queen looked on.

  
Arya suspected that the Queen thought this man was hers, not Sansa Starks.

  
      By the afternoon, Arya saw a band of Wildlings and Nights Watch men arrive through the gates. She overheard the big ginger Wildling telling Jon Snow that those not with them now were likely fighting for the Dead, he also declared that the Dead would be upon them ‘before the sun comes up tomorrow’. This put a chill through Arya’s bones.

  
She felt obliged to attend the meeting called in what had been dubbed ‘the War Rooms’. Around a large table were gathered Lords, Ladies and Commanders as Jon Snow spoke. He laid out their supply of weapons, and told them all that their mite alone would not be enough.

  
“We can’t beat them in a straight fight,” he said. “The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls…” He paused, looking around the room.

  
“Getting to him might be our best chance.” He declared.

  
Bran told the room that the Night King would come for him. All eyes were upon her crippled brother in his wheeled chair.

  
“He’s tried before, many times, with many three-eyed ravens.” he stated as a fact.

  
“Why? What does he want?” Samwell Tarly, one of Jon’s friends asked Bran. Samwell seemed to be one of the few people outside their family who truely understood and accepted Bran’s role as the Three-Eyed Raven.

  
“An endless night.” Bran informed the room. “He wants to erase this world. And I am it’s memory.” The whole room was looking at Bran with worry. Arya knew that they were all wondering how a crippled boy was going to face up against the Night King alone. People continued talking as Arya studied all their faces.

  
“How will he find you?” Tyrion Lannister asked.

  
“His mark is on me.” Bran began to roll up his left arm sleeve to expose 4 long red lines along his arm. It was as through someone had grabbed his arm, but the mark was burned onto his skin. The whole room looked concerned, but Bran was as nonchalant as ever.

  
“He always knows where I am.” he continued.

  
“We’ll put you in the crypt, where it’s safest.” Jon said.

  
Arya rolled her eyes. People needed to realise that the Stark siblings were stronger than they thought. Bran was a cripple, but he knew he could be a help during the battle. Arya was tiny in statue, but she was fierce and a trained assassin. Even Sansa had something to offer, she couldn’t fight, but she could certainly calm down the civilians she would be inviting into the crypts of Winterfell.

  
“We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys us all.” Bran said. “I’ll wait for him in the Godswood.”

  
They all peered down at the map of Winterfell that had been laid out on the table.

  
“You want us to use you as bait?” Sansa said with fear in her voice.

  
“We're not leaving you alone out there!” Arya protested. She was about to offer to go and be Brans shield.

  
“He won’t be. I’ll stay with him.” Theon chimed in. “With the ironborn.”

  
Sansa certainly looked worried.

  
“I took this castle from you.” Theon said glumly. “Let me defend you now.”

  
The meeting continued with plans of where people would be and what they should do.

  
“We’re all going to die.” The big ginger Wilding declared with no fear in his voice. “But at least we die together.” he continued, Arya swore that he was staring at Lady Brienne as he said that, and she looked away quickly as if to escape this declaration.

  
“Let’s get some rest.” Jon declared.

  
The room began to clear out as people prepared for their final night before the battle.

     Arya went for some food and took a bit of rest. Eventually she made her way to the top of the walls of Winterfell. As she meandered her way around the walls, looking down from time to time, she could see the large expanse of land between Winterfell and the rise of the hill on the horizon, then down into the castle courtyard. As she walked she came upon a figure huddled up against a wall out in the open.

  
It was the Hound.

  
He sat on the ground, a wine flask in hand and his back up against the battlements.

  
She approached him and put a hand out towards him, he passed her his wineskin, just like the old days. She took the skin and sank to the floor beside him. She sighed and took a long swig out of the wineskin.

  
They both sat in silence, just staring straight ahead.

  
“You never used to shut up.” He declared eventually, “Now you’re just sitting there like a mute.”

  
She blinked a few times.

  
“Guess I’ve changed.” Arya replied flatly.

  
Neither of them spoke for another moment.

  
“What are you doing up here?” She eventually asked in an inquisitive tone.

  
“What does it look like?” he grunted back.

  
“No, I mean, what are you doing up here? You joined the Brotherhood. You went beyond the Wall with Jon. You’re here now. Why?” She frowned, the Hound was a solitary character. He cared for one person and one person only, and that was Sandor Clegane, himself.

  
“When was the last time you fought for anyone but yourself?” She enquired sharply.

  
He turned towards her, and looked her in the eyes.

  
“I fought for you, didn’t I?”

  
She looked down towards her feet. She couldn’t argue, he had fought for her. Maybe he did half care for one other..?

  
The two of them settled into silence besides each other once more. Then a set of footsteps began to come closer.

  
Arya peered up to see Beric Dondarrion making his way towards them.

  
“Oh, for fucks sake.” The Hound exclaimed as the man approached. “May as well be at a bloody wedding.”

  
The man looked down at Arya and the Hound, his hair was red-gold, and Arya had heard Sansa describe him as ‘dashing’ back when they were girls. The man before her however, looked tired, and wore an eye patch across his right eye. Beric had been the leader of a group calling themselves The Brotherhood without Banners. Arya, the Hound and Gendry had once been held hostage by them, well Arya was the hostage. Beric had earned himself a place on Arya’s list once for this, but mostly for selling Gendry. The man stood in his full armour, save a helm, attached to which was a thin black cape that billowed out behind him.

  
“My Lady,” he smiled at Arya, “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry we parted the way we did.”

  
Arya looked up at him with a bored look on her face.

  
“Was he on your list?” He Hound asked motioning to Beric with his head. The Hound knew all about her list, and knew she’d had the chance to finish him off once when he’d been on it.

  
“For a little while.” she retorted.

  
“That’s alright.” Beric said softly, sitting upon a barrel opposite them. “The Lord of Light has brought us together all the same. This is his moment.”

  
The Hound interrupted him.

  
“Thoros is not here to bring you back now - so I hope your not about to give a sermon! Because if you are, the Lord of Light is gonna wonder why he brought you back 19 times just to watch you die when I chuck you over this fucking wall.”

  
Beric had in-fact been resurrected 7 times, he had suffered death both at the hands of Sandor Clegane, and his bother Ser Gregor. Beric laughed and reached out for the Hound’s wineskin, Arya rolled her eyes, but the Hound tossed him the skin all the same. Arya sat deep in thought, and it dawned on her, this may be her last night on earth. Tomorrow may not come. Suddenly she rose to her feet and began to walk away.

  
“Where are you going?” The Hound asked gruffly.

  
She turned around looking between the two men and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not spending my final hours with you two miserable old shits!” she declared.

     Arya made her way down through the castle. Many areas were now quiet, people had actually gone to rest, or find places to warm themselves. Arya found a long narrow room being used as a grain store, here she picked up a bow and some arrows and began firing at a makeshift target. The room was near the forge, so it held a small level of warmth.  
As she let an arrow loose she heard someone approaching from behind. She allowed her bow to drop, and she turned slowly around.

  
Approaching her was Gendry. The first thing she noticed was the weapon he held in his hand, quickly followed by the fact that he had bathed. Arya didn’t mind Gendry being dirty, it was him, he was a smith. They’d also travelled together for near three years, where opportunities to clean yourself were few and far between. But, at the same time, she smiled at how clean he was. She could finally see his face fully. He was dressed completely like a Northerner, in brown furs and leather.

  
“Is that for me?” She nodded towards the spear like weapon with two heads Gendry held in his hands.

  
She put her bow down as Gendry proudly handed her the weapon. She noted a yellow ribbon tied around the shaft of the weapon, she wondered why he had done that.  
She took the weapon into her own hands and smiled deeply as she inspected it, her eyes quickly flickered to his face, he was watching her intently. She turned around and walked to find space. Once she had enough space, she began to twirl the weapon around in her hands. It reminded her of when she used to battle the Waif at the House of Black and White.

  
“This’ll work.” She said proudly taking a stab at the air.

  
She continued to twirl the weapon with a smile on her face, but positioned herself so she was now face to face with Gendry.

  
His face had suddenly gone serious.

“Last time you saw me, you wanted me to come to Winterfell.”

  
She murmured to say she remembered, and he cocked his head.

  
“Took the ling road, but..”

  
“What did the Red Woman want with you?” She asked in response.

  
He shifted around uncomfortably.

  
“She wanted my blood for some kind of spell.” He was facing away from her now, but he sounded distressed.

  
Arya continued to pace and twirl the weapon Gendry had made her. “Why your blood?”

  
He turned towards her. He blinked slowly and exhaled. He looked deeply distressed.

  
“I’m Robert Baratheons bastard.” he declared.

  
Abruptly she stopped playing with the weapon, and stared at his face, she was checking that he was being serious.

  
“I didn’t know until she told me.” he continued.

  
Arya guessed it made sense, Queen Cerscei had been after him all those years ago.

  
“She tied me up, stripped me down, put leeches all over me.” he declared.

  
Arya’s own experience with the Red Woman was not particularly pleasant, but Gendry’s experience was deeply worrying. She’d been mad at him for leaving her all those years ago, but now, she was sad not mad. If they had been together, they could have protected one another.

  
Arya looked upon Gedry’s face, it was soft and fragile. He was showing her another side to his fierce and strong persona.

  
“Was that your first time?” Arya asked with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk on her face.

  
“No, yeah, I’ve never had leeches put all over my cock.” he responded.

  
Come on, she thought.

  
“Your first time with a woman.” She said boldly, pacing in front of him.

  
“What?” he said in shock as she was putting her spear down on a table.

  
“I-I- didn’t- I wasn’t with her.” he said following Arya, stuttering in an argumentative tone.

  
She turned to fully face him, they were mere inches apart.

  
“Were you with other girls before that in King’s Landing?” She asked full of confidence. It was now or never she thought as she slowly began to remove her soft leather gloves.  
He laughed in disbelief.

  
“Or after?” She pressed.

  
He looked embarrassed, but he was smiling. He began to stammer gibberish.

  
She cocked an eyebrow in response.

  
“You don’t remember?” She teased.

  
He laughed nervously.

  
She frowned back at him.

  
“Yes, I was.” he said at last.

  
“One?” She began to move again, “Two? Twenty?”

  
“I didn’t keep count!” He protested defensively.

  
She watched him for a moment.

  
“Yes, you did.” She smiled at him.

  
He sighed in response, Arya could see him trying to figure out what kind of answer she wanted. She just wanted the truth. But truth be told, torturing him was fun too.

  
“Three.” he said eventually.

  
She smiled slightly in response, she rocked herself slightly from side to side, telling herself again, it’s now or never.

  
She took two small steps towards him.

  
“We’re probably going to die soon.” she stated tilting her head to look up into his eyes.

  
She took another step, she gently looked into his eyes. Not allowing her eyes to leave his for even a moment.

  
“I want to know what it’s like before that happens.” she softly whispered.

  
He blinked in response. His eyes were locked on hers. He looked split.

  
They both stared into each others eyes, grey locked on blue. She parted her lips ever so slightly.

  
“Arya, I-“ he sighed ever so softly, his voice was full of something Arya could not place.

  
Now or never. She told herself a final time.

  
She wouldn’t wait a moment longer. She closed the last step towards him, placing her hands on either side of his face, she kissed him deeply. She didn’t know if it was right, but it felt right, and he was smiling, so it mustn’t have been wrong.

  
She briefly pulled away, just to glance upon his face, then she went in for a second kiss. Electricity was sparking through her body, like nothing she’d ever felt before.  
He began to take control, smiling down on her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, whilst her hands moved down to his arms. They both laughed into the kiss. How was this happening she thought. Oh Gods this is happening. Before last week, she had not even considered this a possibility, and now it was eating her alive. She never wanted the kisses to stop.

  
But she pulled away, only slightly, they both began removing his cloak, then her belt, and his tunic. Their mouths couldn’t stay parted for long though, as they both scrambled with their clothes, a magnetic force pulled their lips back together. Kissing Gendry was like gasping for air, she needed his lips on hers, more than she desired oxygen. She removed his shirt, and pressed her body back against his, she could feel the hardness of his whole body up against hers. She reached up on her tiptoes as he bent towards her, her hands were gently on either side of his face as they kissed.

  
Suddenly she groaned and shoved him backwards onto a sack of grain. It reminded her of the time he’d been teasing her when they were kids and she’d loved him back, even the expression he wore as he looked up at her was the same. He was amazed at her strength and confidence. He led on the sack shirtless watching her intently. She stood before him, she was panting ever so slightly and began to remove her shirt. As she lifted the shirt over her head, she saw Gendry’s eyes fall from her face. Most men in this situation would be staring at her breasts, but not Gendry. A look of concern clouded his eyes as he took in the sight of all the scars covering her chest and stomach. She didn’t like people feeling sorry for her, but Gendry’s gaze hadn’t really bothered her - maybe she’d tell him all about it one day.

  
She had the high ground here, she looked down at him. He was stunning. His muscles were completely visible now, and his face was more desirable than his body. His eyes.. his eyes seemed to be full of everything good in the world, beyond the concern was excitement, love and awe. Arya had never seen anything so pure as his gaze.

  
“I’m not the Red Woman,” she declared quietly, “Take your own bloody pants off.”

  
She began to remove her own pants. He kept staring at her a second longer, then began to follow suit. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and made her way over to where he was led on the sacks of grain. She settled her naked body down on top of his. She had managed to get this far through pure chance, but now she didn’t really know what to do. But she positioned herself over him, and he laid his hands on her hips to pull her into the correct place. The whole time he was looking up at her, he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. She lent in and began to kiss him once more, he realised he would have to take it from there.

  
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” he whispered through her kisses.

  
He flipped their positions around and began to thrust into her softly.

  
“Arya-“ He sighed.

  
She said nothing in return, but pulled his head back down to her lips.

  
When he finally lifted himself from within her, they both turned towards each other and sighed with a smile. He reached out to smooth her hair flat, and she laid a hand on his cheek. He kissed her once more and covered the two of them with his cloak. Soon after he fell asleep as she watched him, for a few minutes she watched him breathe in and out. She smiled and kissed his cheek before turning around to face away from him.


End file.
